Paint the Pages Black
by Sezu-Ni
Summary: Starting at a young age, Harry Potter learned power was everything. And Blackmail was power over power. Disclaimer: Not mine. Rated for Swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Paint the Pages Black**

When Harry Potter was younger, about five, optimism was the only thing that got him by. Small things that held a greater impact on his short life than most would think. Like school - Primary - he would think, _it will be better this time. Dudley won't stop me from making friends. I'll have someone to talk to and prove to the Dursley's I'm a _normal _child and then they won't hate me __anymore. _

This was proven false as he had missed the first day of school... and the second... and the third - before he knew it, the week had passed and he was still in the Dursley's household having been punished for something that certainly wasn't his fault. But the Dursley's... if it wasn't Harry's fault, it was Harry's fault.

Cliques had been formed and Dudley ruled over them like the big bully he was at the Dursley's. It seemed adults were all the same when it came to Harry. They believed the rumors - _such a troublesome boy, always getting into fights - _and fell for such abominable acting skills when parents called up and complained about Dudley's bullying.

_"It's not me," Dudley blinked watery blue eyes at the Primary School teacher, actually having a glint of hurt in those devilish blues. "I don't do nothing. I innocent, they start it, I perfect, they mad and jea- jea - jellous, etc." _

Not that Dudley would actually use the words such as innocent and jealous as those were too big for such a limited vocabulary. Of course, it didn't stop the teachers from falling for it every time; **hook, line and** **sinker**. It also didn't help that Vernon - while being a whale would be considered a full time job to some - was also Vice-President of Grunnings. His son was practically untouchable.

If the teachers weren't so against the green-eyed kid, Harry would've found the trickery amusing.

Eh, such was the life in a small town.

Something similar and along that train of thought was, _They won't believe Dudley. They'll trust me and love me and know that I never lie. _And of course, it would never happen, but it was something and once a happy thought.

Now though, at age seven and a half, Harry knew differently and also thought differently. Harry was also _very _observant.

_No. 7's wife is cheating on him with the milkman -_ Looking out the window, the child watched with bored eyes as the tall 'Adonis' walked out of No. 7's house with a smug grin on his face._ - who uses his easy access position to gain the neighborhood's trust. _There had been a recent string of robberies. To Harry, it was obvious who it was to blame. _With such a free-pass, it's a wonder the milkman lasted so long. I certainly would have started sooner._

But such a thought brought the little he had for breakfast - a measly piece of bread that was actually considered 'nice' of the Dursley's - back up. To use such methods... it made Harry sick and feel a vague sort of respect for the milkman rose.

A couple days later, Harry found out that the milkman wasn't just brawn, but brains as well. Watching with awe-filled eyes as the milkman proceeded to extort and blackmail a tidy sum of money for his - eh hem - silence to No. 7's husband. So not only was he the one breaking and entering, he was also bleeding money off his victims.

How... admirable.

It brought back up an old thought. To use such methods in the eyes of the court and law would be considered illegal and would send the person immediately to prison. But one would have to have the balls - the bravery _i.e. cowardliness _to do such a thing. But to Harry, it opened up a whole new world of opportunities.

Hm... to use... such methods...

A thin and evil smile curved pink lips - a smile that would have made more than one person pause and pale before running in the opposite direction.

"Kekeke..."

#-#

**Three Months Later**

His first victim. The Milkman.

**Name: **John Dekko ( Picture )

**Age: **25 ( Pictures - Ages ranging: 6 - 25 )

**Job: **Thief/Milkman/Blackmail... ist

**The Dirt: **- See Pictures -

Harry grinned widely and innocently, fangs shown as the Milkman paled and blue eyes widened. "H-how-" Harry cut the other off with low cackled, "Kekeke..." A chilling laugh, one that shuddered down John's spine and then the kid had to pull out a gun. Innocuous if it wasn't aimed directly at the other's groin. _You'd be surprised what one could find in the attic of the Dursley's._

"You're options." Harry waited, knowing _John _was professional enough to know where this was going. And it showed when the Milkman grimaced and held out a wallet.

"How did a kid like you get into a thing like this?" The vague way he spoke showed Harry that the other was probably just humoring the child, but Harry continued to smile, even though the irritation showed through green eyes.

"You showed me when you let yourself relax." The puzzlement didn't fade from the Milkman's eyes. Sighing, Harry crossed his legs and let the gun dangle securely from his slim fingers. It had took him the better part of the three months to learn how to use the damn gun - a handgun without much of a recoil - and only a few weeks to get the information on John.

For intents; John was actually married, had two kids and was only in Britain for six months and was leaving in the following week.

This made this blackmail all the more sweeter. One such as John did not deserve to have such a happy life. But, the man was smart. It only took two gunshots and a kick to the balls for the man to take him seriously, something that made Harry flash fangs.

Five minutes later, three thousand dollars richer and anonymous photos being sent to the States, Harry was happy. But - "Kekeke..." Today was merely the beginning of a hopefully _long _and _profitable _life.

#-#

**Three Years Later**

Intimidation, Harry had realized early on, was the key in most transactions. Fingering his old ear piercing, he bit down on his bottom lip, trying to stifle the smile that wanted to escape. Today was the day - he finally had enough information in his _WEBB _( White Extortion and Blackmail Book ) that the Dursley's wouldn't know what had hit them.

Dressed for comfort ( and slight intimidation ) Harry donned a pair of worn - not Dudley worn thankfully - black jeans and a dark green, also faded, t-shirt. In his mouth - between sharpened canines - he popped a pink bubble and in both ears - triple piercings from the cartilage down. Green eyes, cynical and amused as he watched many Cul-de-sac-ians scramble away from his slight form.

_Let's see; No. 3 had gotten a new car -_ to Harry's experienced eyes, it looked like a newer model too. _- a car that No. 3 hasn't got the money for. What would buy that car, hm? _Brown and green eyes connected, as the soon-to-be-Wizard allowed the man to see that he knew, and he wasn't letting it go. No. 3 flinched and backed away from the child, slamming the door behind him.

_His gambling and selling of his Wedding Ring would be noticed soon enough, but little-miss-wifey won't find out about his lay-off from the man of the hour. She also wouldn't find out that he was now in massive debt to certain people who would pay a _pretty _penny to know where their next prey laid. No. 3 certainly covered his tracks well._

An impish smile spread across his face._ Both Wifey and Mafia wouldn't find out from him... if the man paid enough._

"Freak!" More than one person flinched and scuttled back into their homes when they heard the less than stellar 'name' for their tormentor. Usually when the Dursley's called the black-haired child that, it made many... _many _people unhappy in the days that followed. Vicious didn't even come close to describe the hell that was thrust upon them at the time.

When they didn't hear the accustomed screaming that typically supervened, some looked up and then wished they didn't when they saw the completely angelic smile on their tyrant's lips - conveniently covering those demonic fangs for teeth - all knew something was up. _Angelic _was not what Harry was. Hell, even childish wasn't an adjective.

With ears wide-open, they listened to the prospectus' that fell from the boy's mouth like melted sugar. A prospect both frighteningly sweet and terribly wrong.

"Vernon Dursley - " The whale had opened his mouth to scream some more, but seemed unable to speak. A feeling the Cul-de-sac-ians knew and felt empathy with; though some of the more vindictive ones appreciated the _just deserts _about to be handed out.

Without the interruption, Harry continued and repeated, "Vernon Dursley; child abuse to the nth degree, embezzlement of a major firm, embezzlement of child welfare, bribery to the nth degree ( teachers and police officers were so predictable these days ), attempted murder, gambling with the Mafia -" He said this part with a pointed look towards No. 3 who paled significantly. "and other major Underground players and guilty of being the offspring of a shitty whale and fucking goldfish."

Nervous chuckles were scattered through the crowd that had gathered around No. 4 Privet Drive.

Hands opened and closed in an action that herald violence, one that was easily avoided when Vernon dove in for a quick attempted strangle. "Kekeke!" That particular laughter sent shivers neighborhood wide. "I should add another attempted murder to my list, but it would be overkill as I have something would brighten up anyone's day-!" The unholy glee that followed would be remembered for many years. "**_Pictures_****_._****_"_**

What Harry showed Vernon Dursley isn't known, but it had certainly and easily scared the large creature off if the _softer _- there was no such word where Harry was concerned - way the green-eyed devil conducted his dealings indicated anything. The kid seemed a _little _more lenient with his victims and a bit more happier.

That is, if you couldn't tell with the sound of cries of mercy and "Ya-Ha!'s" going on. The Ya-Ha's being courtesy of an excitable Harry.

There were many good things Harry received when finding data on the Dursley's - and he still had a _long _list along with pictures dedicated to Petunia - like, for example; more minions. From the Police - their eyes were no longer on him - to the teachers - all A's from then on along with more difficult work - the Neighbors - blindness seemed to be catching - and then there was something even more than sweet. **(1.)**

**Magic**. Kekeke...

#-#

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

#-#

**(1.) The Police will not bother him as the ones under his command will do anything to keep him out of the system. The Teachers and Neighbors for their blind ignorance and favoritism. The Teachers will give him A's no matter what happens. But he's smart enough that he needs advance work anyways. From the Dursley's - or rather Vernon - he found out about Magic.  
**

*** Personality Quirks: Himura Yoichi from Eyeshield 21 if anything sounds similar.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Paint the Pages Black**

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

#-#

**Three Days Later**

After gathering the remaining information from the shitty Walrus - who had nervously asked the fucking giraffe - Harry was found lying on his back, a pink bubble being blown and a white book hiding eyes from view. Lazy the scene may be, Harry's mind was full of thoughts and things to do along with what blackmail would last while he was gone from the neighborhood.

From what he gathered from the shitty Walrus, the school year started in September and ended sometime in June - there was also Winter and Spring Break, each about two to three weeks long.

_No. 3 would be useless by Winter, the deal I had with Mafia would also end sometime before break - No. 6, 5 and 7 would be fine, their pictures would last a lifetime - but then No. 3 would be in the Mafia's loving hands while No. 1 will be in jail. Officer Jefferson will be fine - but I need to find something new on him as he's getting a bit rebellious. The Judge at the Courts also needs a reminder... Hogwarts is turning more troublesome than expected._

Thinking carefully, he decided to send a letter back to the _Deputy Headmistress _stating that he needed someone to come and _introduce _him to the other world. Not going wasn't even considered. With magic, blackmail would be made that much more easier. "Kekeke..." The rather evil aura he was emitting made more than one person shiver - looking up to the sky and crossing themselves.

He needed more people. He had figured this out a while ago, but there hadn't been anyone worth mentioning on the mundane streets of Privet Drive. **(1.) **Contrary to popular disbelief, there was a sort of order to his chaos. And his chaos needed _a lot _of order. So help would definitely be needed before he left to Hogwarts.

Leaving that chore for another day, as Harry figured there would be an opportunity sometime or another, he thoughts turned inward. At the moment, magic was at the forefront of his mind, diabolic musings ricocheting around in his head.

Fangs flashed and Harry was sitting up, letter in hand and a manic grin on his face. "This was gonna be good." **Pop.**

**Two Months Later**

The knock on the door came at the inappropriate time of two o'clock in the afternoon. Inappropriate as both Mr. and Mrs. Dursley weren't home, Dudley was at school and no one wanted to know what Harry did in his spare time. ( No one questioned the fact he should be in school, not out on his own. )

Standing in the same spot for ten minutes, waiting for someone that wasn't there would make anyone's temper simmer, but Minerva McGonagall wasn't anyone. She was a teacher - lasting over thirty years - and a war veteran; patience, although lesser than her brighter qualities, was something she had learned the hard way.

( After all, not everything could be won with Gryffindor brashness and stupidi- eh hem - bravery. )

Walking back onto the empty streets - and dressed in Muggle attire - she wondered where on earth everyone was. The sudden sound to her left made her turn, _No. 5 _was out and about.

"Excuse me good sir!" She called, voice clipped and commanding - the man immediately froze.

Head tilted to the side, No. 5 made an inquiring sound in the back of his throat, close enough for the Professor to hear but far enough that McGonagall couldn't see the color of his eyes.

"Do you know where Harry Potter-" That was as far as she got as multiple screams echoed throughout the neighborhood. No. 5 being the closest and loudest, No. 6 not far behind and No. 3 whimpering in complete and utter fear.

"Harry Potter? Where!?"

"Oh god! Don't show my wife those pictures!"

"He's gonna kill us all!"

People were screaming, crying and literally running rampant in the streets, it turned even worse when one of them tried to grab her by the shoulders; intent on shaking some sense into the woman who was _willingly _going to find that, that, that - DEMON.

Eyes widening to epic proportions, McGonagall walked away quickly, black heels hitting the pavement as her mind went through what had just happened. _Harry Potter? Was he turned into a menace like the spoilt child Petunia was raising? No, that wouldn't gain such a large reaction. Disgust, contempt and maybe anger - but fear, panic and alarm? What has this child turned into?_

Her answer came immediately and unexpected.

"You're the teacher?"

A loose shirt hung from skinny shoulders - black in coloring and reading "_Sarcasm. It Beats Killing People." _in bold, red lettering - while white suspenders were clipped onto tight, dark brown - nearly black - pants.

The clothing wasn't bad compared to other _children_ - and Minerva uses that word laxly, especially considering how the kids these days were speaking and dressing. The swear words they used and the way the girls and boys dressed - the girls in particular. She had never seen a child so young dressed as some kind of _hussy_.

So no, it wasn't the clothing that surprised _i.e. shocked _her, no - it was the boy in them.

Slightly pointed ears - maybe some latent elfin heritage? - were pierced through with; two hoops and two studs on the left and three studs on the right, devilish green eyes peeking out from spiky bangs, hair spiked up as well, nearly defying gravity with the way it reached for the sky.

The rather famous - or infamous - lightening scar was hidden from view by the bangs as well. As if knowing where her gaze was resting, the boy smirked, bringing attention to pointed incisors and a flash of pink gum. Then there was the body language.

While she may not be as good as most Mind Healers, Minerva considered herself _adept _at reading body language, how else would she have survived a war, the Marauders and now the Weasley Twins?

Hands stuffed into pockets, confidence in his stance and that smirk. _Severus is going to hate him even more. _Reminiscent of James' well-known look after a prank gone well, though the boy looked more like a well-blended combination of both James and Lily, rather than just James as he had as a babe. The memories nearly brought a tear to her eyes. ( But she was made of sterner stuff. )

Realizing she was staring - and noticing the boy seemed pleased at the fact - Minerva straightened her back and nodded professionally, as was her wont. She wouldn't let past acquaintances blind her reputation of being part of the unbiased staff... it wasn't as fun to point such truths out when Severus wasn't there to glare and refute it.

"Yes. I am _Professor _McGonagall." She emphasized, knowing some Muggle-borns had a little trouble with the transition from Muggle titles and such. "And I also teach _Transfiguration _at Hogwarts."

Harry allowed the smirk to grow, knowing his teeth was unnerving and using it to his advantage. "I apologize _Professor _McGonagall." And if they were in school, the cheek alone would have lost ten points. "I'm afraid I understood the first part quite well, but _Transfiguration_. That is not part of it." Though phrased like a question, it was anything but.

"A little respect, Mr. Potter." She chastised before changing the subject. "This is a little uncomfortable, perhaps a change of venue?" Taking the nod of acquiescence for what it was, they began the short journey back to No. 4, both not missing the scuttling of adults and children as they passed.

No. 1 - 7 were hiding in their homes, Harry being the obvious reason as they stared at him with fear and panic.

"If I asked, would you tell me why these people seem so..." McGonagall waved a vague hand, motioning to the dissembled people.

Harry shrugged with an easy grace, a near angelic smile on his face, "Some people _Professor, _have so much to hide. It's a wonder why they don't simply... let it all out..." From then on, it was silent. That is, until they arrived back to No. 4.

"Frea-" The distasteful word was cut off as Petunia got an eyeful of who was with her good-for-nothing nephew. "_Freak_." Nostrils flaring, McGonagall loomed over the thin woman with the anger of a hungry lion.

"_What _was that Mrs. Dursley? Surely my hearing must be going bad to hear such _things _from a _respectable _woman such as yourself." When the _giraffe _opened her mouth to protest, she stopped abruptly when a lethal glare was fired at her. "Maybe you should lay down and _rest _good madam, before you fall."

Petunia both paled and colored, running back into the house - conveniently forgetting to close the door - and slammed the room to her bedroom shut. Calming herself, Minerva looked down quickly enough to catch a flash of respect come-and-go through Harry's eyes, before he stepped into the house and sat himself down on the couch without a sound.

"You had something to say, Professor?" There was no teasing - mocking or not - in his voice anymore and McGonagall found she liked it that way better than before. Long legs were crossed and a White Book - when had he taken that out? - was put back into place.

"Let's see, I came here -" She made herself comfortable and prepared herself for a long interrogation, something that Harry hadn't disappointed. Rapid fire questions came quickly, one after another - barely enough time for Minerva to answer them. The boy took mind games to another level as some questions circled around the main topic before zeroing back in in time to corner the wearying Professor.

It was a chore and a half but respect grew in Harry as he knew some people who wouldn't have lasted a second in his company. The fact that McGonagall was in her second hour and was dealing with his inquiries with admirable patience, he decided he wouldn't try and blackmail her, mostly because he didn't know enough about the word to do so.

"Who is taking me shopping...?"

"Myself or another teacher."

"There's the matter of money." Not how he was going to pay for schooling, but how much. At the moment, Harry had enough money to last two life-times and more.

"Your parents left you a trust."

There was silence. Then pointed ears perked and a nearly devious expression crossed Harry's face. "Oh really." From what he had garnered, the Potters weren't an Old Family in general, but there had been donations - from a helluva lot of people for his _heroic _deed - and then there was the interest the bank owed him for using said bank.

Hell, even if his trust only had a mere - _galleon_ was it? - the interest would've tripled by now. From McGonagall, his parents were rich-ish - James being an auror and Lily a Master in both Charms and Potions - and the war going on, Harry was pretty sure they put more than a galleon in his vaults.

As dark eyes darkened at the thought of more money, Minerva was plenty sure she was making some kind of mistake by telling Harry about the trust set up for him.

Oh well, in for a knut out with a galleon.

"There is also the fact of your... celebrity status. At the moment, many people expect you to go to Hogwarts, I would like to ask if you would like to travel incognito throughout Diagon, or leave yourself at the mercy of _millions _of thankful fans."

The way she said it made the decision pretty clear.

"Tch. Fucking sneak."

Before he knew it, his mouth was filled with soup and Harry was spluttering bubbles from his suddenly filled orifice. Spitting rudely and vindictively hoping it got on the shitty teacher, Harry glared viciously with narrowed eyes and fangs bared.

"The hell was that for?"

"Watch your mouth."

"Do you do this to every new student you meet? Ignore all pleasantries and stuff soap down someone's throat without even a by-your-say. I thought you would have at least warned me, shitty teacher."

Once again, Harry found his mouth filled with soap.

"Language, and it's _Professor._"

"I see how this year is going to be _Professor._" Shitty Teacher.

"Blargh!"

"Thoughts count as well."

#-#

**Diagon Alley. **

**Tell me who you would like to see go with Harry into Diagon Alley. **

**1). Any suggestions? I was thinking little Mark Evans.**

**Most of my chapters will be over 2,000 words.**

**R&R and tell me what you think.**

**Looking for a Beta. Please apply through PM and NOT REVIEW. I repeat. PM **not** REVIEW. **


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